


Make It Work

by EliMorgan



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Roll-A-Prompt, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-05 22:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18375791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EliMorgan/pseuds/EliMorgan
Summary: When Aphrodite misses her Love Quota, she takes a personal interest in order to catch up.Theodore is not impressed by her unconventional approach.Aphrodite is not impressed by Theodore.Wade is just happy to be included.Won First Place for Most Creative Prompt in MMF Roll-A-Prompt 2019!!!!





	Make It Work

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MMF's Roll-a-Prompt, in which I drew Wade Wilson/Theodore Nott, with the prompt, soulmates.
> 
> It is complete and utter trash. Never written Deadpool before, that was an... experience. 
> 
> (Don't hate me.)
> 
> Sentences in _Italics_ indicate the Author's words. The quotations in these sections are Wade.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Eliza x
> 
> Edit: Thank you to everyone who voted for this fic during the Roll-A-Prompt competition! You all are wonderful!

The queue shuffled forward a few steps, sending the pearly mist swirling around their ankles. The sky was in a perpetual state of sunrise, pink and lush on the horizon, deep blue high above, with faint streams of cloud to add embellishment. As far as Theo could see, people queued; young ones, old ones, short ones, tall ones. There were no children, however, save the one that flew about overhead; since Theo had never seen a fat baby with wings out in the wild, he had to assume this one wasn't queueing along with the rest of them. 

There was some grumbling about the wait, but Theo didn't mind. He was a patient sort of bloke. The Hell that was his father's house had seen to that. Besides, he'd only been here - an hour? Perhaps two, at a push. The woman in front of him, the darling grandma type, had been waiting for ten years, or so she said. Theo had learned quickly that you couldn't always take what you were told for the truth, not here. 

It was a brilliant place to people watch, though. Theo had never known there was such an eclectic mix of people in the world. The sign overhead, which was suspended between the beaks of two sweet-looking doves, claimed that they were in the Western Ward, but Theo could see tribal markings, skintight catsuits and one man wearing what appeared to be half a robot, all huddled together in one group. 

_ Fascinating.  _

People came and went seemingly at will, popping out of existence only to reappear a few minutes later, usually chatting animatedly with a new person or three as they cleaved their way through the crowd. Most of these people were strangers, but Theo had spotted Draco Malfoy hanging off of the arm of that Muggle man that flew about in that tin can… What was his name? Tony Stark, that was it. They passed him about a half hour ago, bonding merrily over their daddy issues. 

No-one seemed to know for certain what was happening. The popular consensus was that they had died and they were waiting to get into Heaven, a theory that had Theo pursing his lips like an old maid; could they not see the bloody cupid? Some people were stupid. Fun to watch, but stupid. 

“Play to the audience, Theo!”

Theo spun around too quickly at the voice, which left him wobbling on one foot. A gloved hand steadied him, but that didn't have as much of an effect as a look into the bloke's face did. 

“Bloody Hell, what happened to you?” Theo blurted out.

The hand was withdrawn as the man reached up and yanked some sort of leather mask over the mangled flesh of his face. “Sorry! Scary, right?” He gave a laugh, seasoned heartily with a lifetime supply of bitterness. “Pay no attention to the man behind the mask!” he added, when Theo didn't stop staring. 

“How do you know my name?” Theo asked, suspicious, now that the shock had worn off. “Who are you?”

“I'm your generic, interchangeable romantic lead, obviously,” the bloke informed him happily. “Hence the face. The writer momentarily forgot that I'm horribly disfigured.”

Theo scowled. “Right. Okay.”  _ Weirdo _ . He turned back to face the front. Or, where he thought the front might be. What was the point of being in a queue that never seemed to move, he wondered. 

“You're not listening to me,” the masked man whined. Theo lifted his eyes to the heavens, only to catch the eye of the flying baby.  _ Creepy.  _ Back to the floor then. Anywhere but the man behind him who was now chanting, “Theo. Theo. Theo!”, each word accompanied by a poke in the back. Only when he got distracted and started to mutate the word - “Theodore! Theodopolis! Thar she blows!” - did he snap, and flip around. 

“Shut up!” he snapped. Mask man favoured him with a blank look from his giant, empty eyes. 

“No-one’s going to like you if you say ‘all people are stupid’. Stupid people don’t like to be told they’re stupid.” His words were impatient, obvious. Theo hadn’t even realised he’d said those words aloud. 

“Not all people are stupid,” Theo corrected, somewhat stung. “Only most people. And non-stupid people like me just fine.” 

“ _ Suuuuureeeeeeee…” _

He was saved from doing something stupid like smacking the prick by his name being whispered on the wind. He disintegrated, an odd experience, then re-formed in a tall, white room, walls draped in cloudy gauze. Trying to get his bearings, he twisted around, only to stop dead when he saw the woman.

She was tall, slender, and bored, clicking her fingers from where she lay on a powder-pink chaise to call over a lurking Satyr, who obligingly dropped grapes into her mouth. From her overall demeanour, Theo found it startling that she could be bothered to chew them all by herself. 

“Theodore Nott,” another Satyr droned, his furry leg jiggling beneath his tunic. 

The woman turned limpid eyes on him, still chewing, almost goat like with her liquid brown eyes and diligently working jaw. Her swallow was a visible thing. Her eyes went to slide away dismissively, then flicked back, narrowing slightly. 

“My, my, aren't you a bad boy,” she purred, pulling herself into a less supine position, her eyes never leaving him. “Not so good, not so  _ boring…” _

Theo couldn't help his raised eyebrow. He'd been boring his entire life. A secondary character at best. He kind of liked it. 

“So much in your head!” The woman seemed delighted by what she found as she barged her way into his mind, rifling through his thoughts like a trashy paperback. “You've been busy. And what is this - you want redemption? That's no fun…  _ love,  _ is it? That, I can relate to…”

Theodore gathered himself enough to slam the door she'd used to enter his mind, but he'd never been an Occlumens, and she just barged right back in, ripping through years of failure, examining his self-doubt, poking at his overwhelming loneliness. He tried to speak, but she held the reins at the moment; her control over his mind was so absolute that he could barely blink. She was obviously practiced, and more powerful a witch than he had ever encountered. 

_ Who are you?  _ He demanded in the only way he could; shouting the words in his mind. 

She blinked, then her eyes melted, became sultry and dark. “I am beauty,” she purred, a bit narcissistically for his liking. “I am lust. The first flutterings of affection in your stomach; the  _ click  _ in your mind when you kiss. I am the tension that builds, the spark that lights a fire. I am-”

“Aphrodite,” he surmised, rolling his eyes boredly. “Obviously.”

Ire flashed across her perfect face for just a moment, then was smoothed away. “Quite.”

“I didn't know Aphrodite did house-calls. Or queues. How very British of you.” 

Aphrodite waved a hand dismissively. “Needs must, darling. My quota is down, hence this little festival of love. You, lucky thing, are one of the chosen few.”

“Chosen for what?” Theo asked, foreboding shadowing his words. 

“A soul-mate, of course!” At this, Aphrodite looked delighted. “Not my usual forte, I grant you, but lasting love is so much more fulfilling than a few good fucks, don't you think?”

“I think this is fucking mental,” Theo muttered, mostly to himself. “Isn't this just a bit… Cliché? The Aphrodite dating show?” The whole situation seemed unreal. It couldn't be this easy - the whole set-up had a lazy feel to it, like a surprise party thrown together at the last minute. The decorations and cake were good, but not the best, and all of the people were acquaintances and friends-of-friends because your lover had plans. Still, a treacherous hope stirred in his stomach. 

A cloud passed over the goddess’ face, and she gave a petulant pout. “You're annoying me. You don't want to annoy me, pretty. That's the difference between getting a sweet, loving soulmate and a dark, demanding one.”

Theodore shrugged. “Either way, they'd be my soulmate, wouldn't they?” He'd been so lonely for so long, he doubted anything this woman presented him with could disappoint him. Well. His mind flicked back to the bloke outside. “I’ll make it work.”

She narrowed her eyes at him impatiently. “We'll see about that.” She clicked her fingers, an evil grin stretching her lips.

Theo didn't know what he was expecting, really. Some giant ogre of a man - Hagrid, perhaps - except evil, with no redeeming qualities. Someone he couldn't possibly love, as punishment. 

Instead, the man from outside appeared in the room, and Theo felt something inside him soar. 

“I sure didn't expect  _ this  _ when I woke up this morning,” Mask Man said, jovially. Spinning casually on his heel, he shot Theo a flirtatious look - as much as he could, through the leather. “Well, Hel- _ lo _ handsome. We meet again,” Mask Man turned his face to the ceiling and added in a shout, “predictably!”

Theo glanced back at his hostess, who was smirking. 

“Theodore Nott, meet your soulmate, Wade Wilson.”

“Deadpool,” the man added, helpfully.

“That’s a terrible nickname,” Theo told him, and he pouted. 

“ _ I  _ like it.”

“Of  _ course  _ you do.”

Theo turned a baleful look on Aphrodite, who remained stoically unmoved, while ‘Deadpool’ spun on his heel and called out, to seemingly no-one in particular;

“So when do we get to the smut?!”

Merlin's hairy balls. Even the Gods hated him.

* * *

“Wait - that's  _ it?!  _ I don't even get a kiss? C'mon! Take pity on me.”

_ Shut up, Wade. You’re the worst. That’s it - The End.  _

“My soulmate doesn't even  _ like  _ me _!  _ This is the worst happy-ever-after ever. Fix it.”

_ No _ .

“Fix it, fix it, fix it! Fix it! FIX IT!”

_ Oh. My. God.  _

* * *

_ Six Years Later _

Theo tried not to flinch as Wade came flouncing up the aisle, frothy white veil pinned in place over his mask. It had taken months to get him over Theo's first reaction to his face - months that weren't at all wasted, in Theo's opinion, since it mostly entailed lots of snogging and licking and just, overall fun - but he still wouldn't show it in public. Theo could mostly get behind that.

But a veil? And that weird - was he wearing a mini-skirt?  _By all the Gods..._

At least there was no blood, this time. 

Wade's grin crinkled his mask when he heard Theo's put-upon sigh. “Why?” he asked his fiancé, plaintively. 

“You should know what you're getting into,” Wade said in that way he had of jovially stating the obvious in such a way as to make one itch to stab him - and, as Theo knew, most people didn't hold back on that urge.

_ Why him?  _ Theo asked the Gods once more, but it was only a thin prayer, for that treacherous affection this man inspired had bubbled in his chest and before he knew it, he was smiling. 

“I'm going to regret this,” Theo said, lacing his fingers through Wade's. The mask flattened, and he could imagine Wade's eyes, so rarely solemn, meeting his. 

“No, you won't,” his Wade assured him.

And they lived happily ever after....

* * *

“That's the best you could do?”

_ Problem? _

"Nah. Just. Y'know. Waitin' for the smut..."

_... _

"I'm not getting sex, am I?"

_ Not. Ever. _


End file.
